


Blindside

by koakuma_tsuri



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Dirty Dancing, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, groaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koakuma_tsuri/pseuds/koakuma_tsuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor takes up Loki’s suggestion to sample Midgardian nightlife. He was not aware it would be a life-changing decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindside

‘Dancing’ in Midgard was far from what they called dancing back home, truly affirming that they were on a world so distant from their own. In the place of grand, golden halls, this establishment was dark and felt much smaller than it really was with all the bodies crammed into it. Where there were not easy-to-clean furnishings, there were people. People dressed in far less than what was ever worn back in Asgard. The music was different. Very different. Louder, heavier and not so easy on the ears. And rather than something that stayed in the background and was often covered with laughter and tales of great victory, this music forced itself through each body, making them move to its rhythm.

But all these differences did not mean that Thor hated the place. On the contrary, it felt even more like a rebellion than simply disregarding a request of their parents. He felt wild and feral and all the other things his father would never let him be. He dreaded to think just how their father would react when they got home. That was no doubt why Loki suggested coming to Midgard in the first place.  It seemed sometimes his little brother enjoyed getting them out of trouble just as much as he enjoyed getting them in it. But Thor, as always, was impulsive and followed his brother’s fleeting suggestion. Anything fun and new was as much a temptation as giving a mouse to a playful kitten. Only afterwards did a little sense echo in  the corner of his brain. That echo: that Odin would be far less than pleased when Heimdall told him what his two young sons were getting up to.

Well, what _Loki_ was getting up to.

Thor had managed to restrain himself for the most part so far. Keeping to the wall and watching over his little brother. Countless young Midgardian women had approached him, tried to dance with him, and it had taken every ounce of the blonde God’s self-control to stay his hands. Loki, too, had garnered his far share of attention. Both women and men sidled closer to him, though he had seemingly preferred the company of the latter. That was not something Thor appreciated. For so long – for longer than he could really remember – he had been the only one around Loki. The only one to touch him, hold him, embrace him, to lean over his shoulder and whisper in his ear. And here Loki was, sharing himself with whomsoever made their way through the sea of writhing bodies to fit neatly to the shape of his body.

Self restraint wearing much too thin, Thor was sure he could not keep from tearing those ignorant, trespassing mortals away from his dear brother.

Loki looked little much older than some of the youngest Midgardians that surrounded them, even paler in the coloured lights and the sharp, angular features of his face were only enhanced in shadow making him look dangerous. The sparkle in his eyes was electric. His hands, so long and slender, moved with a fluidity like water; the motion drawing people like a current ever nearer. Thor could see why so many were taken with him.

He himself found it hard to look away.  

His usually reclusive, introverted brother appeared to be enjoying himself and this one vice he had discovered, but Thor had yet to see him smile. In fact, since they had first arrived on the planet, he had worn a solemn expression with dark, smouldering eyes. Purposefully enigmatic, Thor knew. He knew when his brother was playing a game, and it would just take a while to figure, or to crack, what it was. And what the prize would be for that uncovering.

Some mortals were put off by Loki’s indifference, no doubt taking it as an outright rejection, and wandered off to find other company. But their eyes occasionally trailed back to that lithe, black-clad form and the next partner trying to pry away that mask. They had various ways of trying, from dancing to forward caresses and Thor watched as one man – a dark haired teen with a thin goatee – leaned to Loki’s ear and whisper something with a leering smirk. It had achieved a laugh- but that cold, mirthless sound Loki had. No doubt the mortal’s silver tongue was copper in comparison. Nonetheless, Loki turned to face the youth. The sharp expression remained on his face as he lifted his arms around the other’s neck.

Emerald eyes met Thor’s for a second. He swore he saw a smirk before those lips curled around words. Even over the distance and music, they were loud in his ears. He even felt the brush of lips and hot air. “Another dance and I’ll permit your hands upon me,” the sudden onslaught of sensation became sickening. Thor could not deny his brother exploits, where he himself had tasted a few Asgardian maidens, but with a mortal? This mortal? Here? Now? And under all that fret of impropriety, all Thor felt was how it was the thought of another’s hands on his dear brother that forged him forwards. No one had a right to that. No one was good enough for his brother.

“You there,” he laid a hand on goatee-boy’s shoulder and pulled him back. Loki’s arms loosened and slid downwards. Thor briefly saw a frown on his face, but the mortal’s was bemused.

“We’re a little bus—”

Thor smiled, trying to be the least threatening he could muster, but it looked like the grin of a wolf. He knew mortals were feeble, and while he longed to avenge his grievances like he could on Asgard, the strength in even his weakest of blows could kill this youth. His hand squeezed slightly at the mortal’s butter-soft shirted shoulder. “I’d rather you not dance with my _brother_ ,”

“Yeah, _brother_ , man. You’re not his _dad_. If he wants to dance then--”

“My dear Brother,” Loki’s voice slid through the cacophony like a stream through mountains. Thor turned as Loki moved closer towards him, completely ignoring the mortal who still lingered. “Dance with me?”

Thor glanced down as his brother’s delicate fingers twined around his own and out of the corner of his eye, saw goatee-boy sneer and stalk away. Loki pulled slightly, and started swaying. First their arms, then his hips. The motion was fluid, beautiful in its own way and Thor thought how much nicer it would have been in Loki’s normal clothes – cape billowing to exaggerate each movement – instead of plain, Midgardian garments. He stared and felt redness blossom on his cheeks. Feeling embarrassed, pathetic and ashamed – this was his _brother_ he was leering at like all those mortals before – he tried to look away, but Loki’s eyes were just as sinfully captivating.

 Blinking and lips turning downwards, Thor tried to reclaim his hands, but Loki was strong. Just like his (in)ability to detect trouble, he could only tell his brother’s trickery when it was too late.

“Is this why you have brought us here? To mock me?”

The expression that crossed Loki’s face was almost convincingly hurt. Only his green eyes betrayed a sparkle of amusement. “Believe me, brother, I mean no offence. I simply meant for us to enjoy ourselves. Now, dance with me,” he repeated, sounding more the insistent child that he had never been. Loki rarely asked for anything, and sometimes Thor wondered if he ever _wanted_ anything. He would have gladly given hundreds of mortal lifetimes to know what went on in that dark head; to know every scheme, every motive and every thought behind every emotion.

“Loki, I cannot,”

“Why not, Brother? Did we not dance together at the banquet for—”

“That was different, Loki,” Thor muttered, his voice like thunder and he tried to block off the sight of his brother’s body, and the reactions it was having to his own. Despite himself, he subconsciously felt the urge to move, as much to the rhythm as to pull that form closer.

For a moment, Loki frowned and glanced to either side of them. “How these Midgardians dance? Come now, Brother, let me show you.”

Thor tensed as Loki stepped closer, momentarily dropping their hands before they instead looped around his neck. Through the thin linen of a shirt he wore, the blonde could feel Loki’s fingers against the ridge of his spine. But a stronger sensation was the warmth of Loki’s body against his, chest to thigh; feeling sinewy muscles possessing the strength of a wild animal more than a warrior.

Then Loki was moving once again. Dragging his hips slowly side to side, still tight to Thor’s own. The fabric of their trousers rubbed, friction igniting, teasing feeling through the blonde’s lower body. He bit his lip, denying himself pleasure; demanding his blood to remain on its regular course. This was not dancing. Was his fiercely intelligent brother even aware of what this truly was? “Brother—” he muttered again, deeper than before.

But the younger just grinned, all the mischief he had ever caused and would ever cause in that single expression. White teeth gleamed in the unnatural light, before that mouth was leaned to Thor’s ear. “Move with me, Brother,”

As much as he tried to resist, Thor found he could not. Not when Loki pressed closer still, groins meeting in the middle and the friction increasing tenfold. Heat and pressure worked to undo the God of thunder and his large hands found stable purchase on Loki’s slender hips. They fit so neatly, lean and angular, into his palms.

They moved together, fitting seamlessly into the sea of mortal bodies and yet felt in a world of their own. The music no longer registered as anything in Thor’s mind: he could focus only on the gentle pants that were hushed against his neck. Bursts of hot breath punctuated by a brush of lips that slowly grew less chaste. As Loki became less hesitant of contact, Thor grew braver in this casting of inhibitions. His sense still screamed his was his brother, his _little brother_ , and yet that seemed so trivial with all the want that surged through him. If it was so wrong, then that sense would be more dominant, and he would feel disgusted with what little they had done. Yet he wanted so much more.

His hands explored Loki’s form in a way they had never done before. He knew that body, every part of it, and knew how it had changed from childhood into adolescence and yet he felt unaccustomed to its shape, as if Loki was a new realm needing to be identified, and laid claim to.

“Thor,” Loki whispered, that voice a purr that caught in his own throat, heady with a desire and need that surely not even the great court trickster could fake. It was infectious and Thor grasped at his brother to spin him around.

They collided again, fitting with greater ease now, where the curves of Loki’s back yielded to the blonde god’s musculature. The rhythm remained the same. Thor’s hands moved boldly, roaming chest, stomach and downwards. The feeling of Loki’s cock hard under his palm, straining against his trousers finally silenced that feeble voice of sense. His brother wanted him. More than just instigating… whatever this was, Loki _wanted_ him.

Feverishly, his pressed kisses to Loki’s neck, where his ebony hair feathered against marble-like skin, as graceful as the swans that swam on palace lakes, just as deceptively delicate and tasting just as rich. Thor closed his eyes as his brother’s hands threaded into his hair, pulling him closer, tighter, denying all choice to break away. If he was mad enough to want to. And Thor’s own hand pressed harder against Loki’s groin, squeezing, rubbing but never enough for a constant sensation. It urged Loki to move for himself; sideways motions meant that his backside rubbed equally as fervently against Thor’s clothed cock.

It felt amazing despite the clothes that separated their bodies. But Thor could feel each movement; the cleft of Loki’s cheeks and an ache settled deep in his gut to decrease the abhorrent distance between their bodies, to take, to claim, to find a new belonging within his brother.

“By all the—” Loki gasped, turning his head and leaning back onto Thor’s shoulder, smiling. Green eyes were half-concealed behind thick lashes. The glaze to them was new. Thor had never seen pleasure on that face before. Yet it was the most beautiful expression he had ever seen Loki wear. Sharp features softened; pink lips parted and moist from his pants. “We should stop, brother.”

Words echoed, breathing life back into Thor’s conscious. Loki was always the voice of reason. True, this was not the place for coupling. As much as such things demanding privacy, Thor had little desire to share this new side to Loki with any mortal who might be looking. Thor slowed their motions down, still loathe to leave their new task.

“ _Heimdall might be watching._ ”

He stopped immediately. Loki had the best way with words, dealing them like blows in a battle and just as profound. He was truly every part an Asgardian warrior, despite what others believed, just in different ways. Thor chuckled deep in his throat, trying to chase away a suddenly surge of worry. What if Heimdall had? What would father think?

It must have shown in his face or body as the next thing he knew, Loki was laughing again. A mix of the mirthless mockery and genuine amusement that captured Thor’s attention immediately. Blue eyes scoured his brother’s face for an explanation.

“I tease, Brother, he is not,” though he did not extrapolate upon the claim. Thor did not get a chance to ask him to. “Let’s return home.”

Thor hummed and pulled away from his brother. Home. A place he was dreading. Another scolding, and new rules they would ultimately defy. Although, the confidence with which Loki walked towards the exit of the Midgardian establishment made Thor wonder just what was going on. If Loki thought the same, there would be some form of trepidation in his composure, but there was nothing. Just an aesthetic sway to his hips, and Thor stared for a moment before he remembered he was meant to be leaving too.

“Let me do all the talking, Brother.” Loki murmured as soon as Thor fell into step beside him. His green eyes did not avert from their path. Thor did not even need to respond to the request. He always let Loki use his greatest asset, like a wise king who did not assign talented men to tasks in which their skills were wasted.

The journey to the Bifrost site was long and mostly silent. Thor’s head hummed with their evening, and what they had done. And what he still wanted to do. Every time he tried to make conversation about it, starting with a simple _Loki,_ the younger glanced at him with those eyes that silenced him – not with coldness or dismissal, but rather a gentle request for silence.  Thor noted no shame or regret in them, which was reassuring.

“Heimdall, open the Bifrost.”

And within minutes the brothers were in the golden chamber, stood before the great gatekeeper as the Rainbow Bridge powered down. As always, the man’s face was blank and eyes glassy. It was hard to imagine how such eyes could see everything, when they appeared to look at nothing. A remarkable man that Thor currently feared. But there was strangely no threat of a reprimand in the air.

“Did you enjoy yourselves, my princes?”

Loki smiled, “Oh very much so. Midgardian culture is rather quite interesting.” he started to walk to the exit, and Thor was all too happy to follow. He was confused, and tried to hide it and used his long legs to carry him out faster.

Their horses waited outside, making the journey back to the palace a lot quicker. Thor was grateful of it. Any longer and – Heimdall be damned – he would shake his brother until everything was explained. The only places safe from the Gatekeeper’s gaze was their private chambers, and Thor followed Loki into his. The younger god didn’t even bat an eyelid at it, rather walked over to his table and poured two cups of refreshment.

“How did Heimdall _not_ see us?” Thor started, taking the offered cup and downing it almost completely. It was not alcohol, as he knew Loki never really drank a lot of the stuff.

Loki’s lips turned sharp again. “He did see us, just not _us_.”

“Brother, save me you ridd—” he trailed off as two figures formed across the room. One blonde and one black, and though currently in the shadows, he could easily recognise them as himself and his brother. They stared back at Thor, before vanishing the moment his mouth opened.

“Heimdall saw similar illusions going to what, I believe, the Midgardians call the ‘Opera’. Cloaking ourselves was an easy task.”

Thor was not surprised to notice that he was unsurprised with what Loki had said. There was always some spell being cast. Always some plan to suit Loki’s fancy. And yet, it was a sort of precaution and responsibility that a King should be able to practice. Thor smiled, his Loki was as smart as he was beautiful. He could not wait to rule with his brother by his side. Every king needed a counsel, just as every man needed a lover.

The words caught in Thor’s mind, reverberating as he watched Loki take another sip of his drink. Head tilted back, throat exposed and the apple bobbing slowly as he swallowed in the candlelight was bewitching. “Loki,” he said softly, “what transpired between us this evening?”

The younger sighed and lowered his cup. He closed his eyes slowly, shaking his head. “I do not wish to talk about it, Brother.”

Thor’s face fell, and strangely, his heart felt like it was swollen in his throat. He uttered a simple, pathetic sound, looking away from Loki’s sombre expression.

“For talking only relates to reason, and what I feel, Thor, has no basis in reason.”

Turning back to him, Thor leaned closer, searching for some straight answer he could understand. Trust Loki to always speak like he was reading from ancient texts. “…Brother?”

Loki laughed and took both their cups to replace them on the table. “Talking is a waste of time. Yes, words can describe emotions, but I – like you, I am sure, Thor – would prefer to find out in silence.”

Thor watched as he walked across the room, occasionally catching a glimmer of emerald eyes that caught his gaze completely at their will. Loki smirked and Thor was moving, hands ready to seize whatever he found first of that body, even before he heard his brother purr, “Touch me, Brother.”


End file.
